


Menos tiempo perdido

by ThEpicjellyfish



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Imelda, F/M, Gen, Hurt Hector, Imelda is the first to die, Multi, Set before the Movie, Shes going to beat Ernesto into the ground, besides Hector, eventually, grind his bones to dust, oscar and felipe show up at some point, shady Héctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:44:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThEpicjellyfish/pseuds/ThEpicjellyfish
Summary: Imelda wakes up in the land of the dead for the first time, and has her world thrown for a loop very quickly. Hector comes to pick her up from the Department of Family Reunions.





	Menos tiempo perdido

Waking up was like trying not to drown. All at once, her eyes were open and she’d sat up gasping, her chest heaving like she hadn’t breathed since she’d gone to sleep that night. She took in the sheetless hospital bed and curtains surrounding her with confusion, feeling something sinking in her gut. 

 

“Hello! Are you Senora . . . Imelda Rivera?” there was a shuffling of papers from behind the curtain. 

 

_ ‘You must be in the hospital’  _ she thought to herself. “Si.” 

 

A  _ skeletal hand  _ reached between the curtains and swept it back quickly. There, dressed in some kind of uniform with a clipboard in hand, was a  _ Skeleton.  _ He gave her a sympathetic smile from over the top of the board, scribbling down some things. Behind him the room opened up into a long white hall, beds with private curtains lining it as far as she was able to see from her own place. 

 

“Welcome to the afterlife, Senora.” Imelda looked down at herself and saw pearled white bone instead of skin. Frantically she swept aside her night gown to see that her legs were skeletal too. 

 

“Oh no. you send me back rapidemente!” she shrieked, throwing down her skirt and sweeping up off the bed. She knew as the words left her mouth that the finality of death never wavered. 

 

The other skeleton waved his hands as she stood, consoling her.

 

“I- I’m sorry Senora Rivera, I know it’s hard when most of your family is still living. But as long as they put your picture on the ofrenda, you will be able to visit them every year on Dia de los Muertos! According to our files, your husband has been here waiting for you for-”

 

“I want nothing to do with that musico!” she snapped, her head in her hands, but he only continued.”- fifty-five years now.” 

 

The number was enough to make her pause, staring at the other skeleton as she did the math in her head. His smile turned into a grimace, and he glanced at his clipboard again. 

 

“Do you not want us to call him?” He asked. She didn’t speak for a moment.

 

“fifty-five years? What was the exact date that he passed?” She saw the look of realization that flashed in his eyes for a second, as he flipped through his papers and told her. At first she thought she’d heard wrong; if the man was telling the truth, Hector would have been dead only two months into the tour. But her eyes widened with distress as it made more and more sense to her. 

 

When Hector’s regular letters hadn’t arrived that third month, she’d written to Ernesto asking what had become of him. Imelda had never liked Ernesto, and was cold to him when they weren’t playing nice for Hector. But he would be the only one to possibly know what really happened to her husband, so she caved and contacted him.

 

He’d replied and said that Hector had been dragging his feet at the last few shows and then disappeared altogether one night. Ernesto said he’d been around for the few weeks after what she now knew was his death. The mariachi had lied to her deliberately- he might have even been the one to kill Hector. 

 

“That Bastardo!” she hissed, looking back to the man in front of her. “Contact my husband, Por favor. Do I wait for him here?”

 

“There is a reception hall that I will bring you to. This is the Department of Family Reunions, where we receive the newly passed and contact their families or friends here to pick them up.” He said, leading her away from the bed she’d woken up in and down the long path in between the isles to a set of double doors. Beyond it was what looked like a bustling train station. Skeletal people in all fashions from the past century hurried about, alone or in groups, moving in and out like a swarm.

“Wait here while I go make that call.” He said, gesturing to the first row of benches before a long line of teller booths. She sat primly in the corner of the bench, as far from the other people around her as she could be. 

 

Ernesto had lied. She didn’t know what to think. She’d built her family, her business and legacy on the anger and pride of a woman burned and risen from the ashes. Hector had been dead the whole time. 

 

She had been nothing but angry for so long, that she didn’t know how to feel. He still could have left her, and then died; but she remembered the letter Ernesto had sent her. He’d said that the moment they stepped into the next town, Hector had been sleeping with other women; that he’d probably left for another woman too. She had been to blinded by the hurt to even write back, throwing the letter in a drawer to be reread every so often when she felt the helpless swell of fury in her throat. Eventually she’d burned it with the rest of Hector’s things. 

 

But if Ernesto lied about Hector leaving after he’d already been dead, everything he said could have been lies. Just because she’d banned music from her life didn’t mean she was ignorant. Ernesto was wildly famous, and he’d made it there on Hector’s songs. The sinking feeling got stronger. 

 

“Senora Rivera! Senor Rivera is on his way. In fact, when I told him you were here he belted out a grito that killed my ears.” She was startled out of her thoughts by the man returning. 

 

“Gracias, Senor . . ?” The man smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Oh, perdon. I am Vasquez.”

 

She nodded, smiling politely. “Gracias, Senor Vasquez.” He paused for a moment, a moment of indecisive contemplation on his face. 

 

“Is there anything else needed from me?” Imelda prompted. 

 

Vasquez shook his head. “It’s just . . . your husband is pretty well known here. He’s spent the night in jail almost every Dia de los Muertos.”

 

“What?” Her husband in jail for what? She narrowed her eyes at the man, her mouth twisting into a frown.”Why?”

 

Vasquez twisted his hands, glancing quickly between Imelda’s expression and the people around them. “Well, until I spoke to him on the phone, I didn’t know that he was  _ that  _ Hector. He tries to get over the bridge- that is, into the living world every year. His attempts have gotten more and more elaborate, but when you aren’t on anyone’s ofrenda-” he shrugged. “The magic won’t let you cross. It’s not just our policy, it’s just how things work around here.”

 

Imelda knew what he wasn’t saying. She straightened her back, staring down her nose at him despite her height, her frown turning into a glare. “Thank you for informing me of this. I can wait for him on my own, now. Gracias for your time, Senor.”

 

He winced at her expression, putting his clipboard under his arm. “De nada Senora. Have a nice day.” Then he left. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Havent written fanfic in like 2 years, so this feels kinda good to post. I've watched Coco every day for the last week and I love the Riveras so hecking much. Let me know what you think !! I need thoughts and feedback.


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